


hope and uncertainty plagued your every word

by mollivanders



Series: things you said prompt series [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-16 23:45:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11263503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mollivanders/pseuds/mollivanders
Summary: Words have always been her ally – never his – and his fists curl at his sides, holding himself together. It builds and flows and changes as they grow, and the sand shifts under his feet, caution plaguing his every move.Sorry, he tells her, over and over, in as many ways as he can imagine, and tastes her apology in return. They stumble, unskilled and uncertain, and catch each other as they fall.(Somehow – slowly – their fights ease into something else.)





	hope and uncertainty plagued your every word

**Author's Note:**

  * For [katsumi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/katsumi/gifts).



> A drabble for leralynne as part of the ["things you said" prompt series. Prompt was _things you said with clenched fists_.](http://ladytharen.tumblr.com/post/159087489244/prompts-1-things-you-said-at-1-am-2-things)

The first argument they have is when they are eleven years old, and the memory of it haunts him for months afterwards. It’s not even a _fight_ really, but in his mind – in his version of events – it’s the first time he hurts her.

(Fighting a troll in a bathroom, he supposes, is a step in the right direction but – it lingers.)

It’s the first fight, but not the last, and he licks his wounds trying to put the pieces back together. Words have always been her ally – never his – and his fists curl at his sides, holding himself together. It builds and flows and changes as they grow, and the sand shifts under his feet, caution plaguing his every move.

 _Sorry_ , he tells her, over and over, in as many ways as he can imagine, and tastes her apology in return. They stumble, unskilled and uncertain, and catch each other as they fall.

(Somehow – slowly – their fights ease into something else.)

+

The Department of Mysteries is a maze of danger, and when he and Hermione part ways he shoots a glance back at her, risking death for one more look.

(She’s looking back at him.)

His hand tightens around his wand, yelling at Luna and Ginny to keep running in front of him, he’ll bring up the rear. He shoots a spell at a Death Eater chasing after them, his mind working without him.

 _Run_ , Hermione had mouthed to him, her eyes full of determination and fear, and he plunges forward as he fires spells behind him.

He’ll see her again.

+

It’s torture, he decides. Probably a violation of human rights, but as a fugitive, he supposes he can’t bring his case to the courts. Still –

It’s torture.

On the bunk below him, Hermione turns in her sleep, mumbling, and he tosses his arm over his face. The summer heat hasn’t passed yet and all the magic they can conjure between them cannot make the tent cool enough for him to sleep.

He’s on fire.

Harry, of course, is asleep. Harry can sleep through anything – always has – and Ron twists his fists in his sheets as Hermione’s voice drifts up to him, sleepy and unaware. He catches the shape of her words his back arching in response, his breath coming short and exhausted.

It’s definitely torture.

+

(His life is a blur without them. Away from the Horcrux, his mind clears and shame fills him – shame as old as a troll in a bathroom – and he blames himself as much as Voldemort.

He’ll find them again.

He has to.)

+

He shouldn’t be this happy. He shouldn’t – because kids are dead and his brother is dead and –

And Hermione has pulled him into an empty classroom, kissing him like her life depends on it, a moment stolen before Harry finds them again, and he cares, he cares so _much_ about everything else but at this precise moment, all he cares about is the way her hands twist possessively in his shirt, words spilling out of her mouth on his tongue, and he cares he cares he _cares_ –

He stumbles forward as she tugs at him and he steps on her toes, the sound of her surprise vibrating in his mouth.

“Sorry,” he mutters and she shakes her head, straining to reach him. Inspiration strikes and he steps forward again until she bumps back into a desk. Easily, he lifts her up and feels her grin as she shifts, her hands dropping to his hips to pull him closer.

 _Torture_ , he affirms – but welcomes it all the same.

+

He struggles with his robes, straightening them in the mirror by the fireplace as Hermione looks at him from behind.

“You’ll be great,” she assures him, smoothing out the wrinkles in his sleeves and she’d told him to spell them, he’d forgotten, but it doesn’t matter.

“You think so?” he asks, drinking in her image.

“I know so,” she insists and presses a kiss to his cheek. “For luck,” she adds.

(His fists curl promisingly, hopefully, and full of certainty.

 _For luck._ )

_Finis_

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [ladytharen](http://ladytharen.tumblr.com) on tumblr if you want to say hi!


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